<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420103" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Moirai</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When He came home from work that day<br>He said “Enough’s enough”.<br>“Let others built the widgets, <br>I have done that long enough.”<br>I’ll live a life of leisure, <br>crafting poetry and song.<br>Perhaps I’ll write short stories<br>or play my guitar all night long.”<br>Such boundless optimism<br>didn’t take Fate into account.<br>Fate, the foe of youth and love, <br>was lurking there about.<br>He thought that He had years of time<br>to write and think and putter.<br>Yet Fate was of another mind, <br>and a malediction muttered.<br>A tightness in the chest He felt.<br>A soreness in one arm.<br>He was sure that it was nothing.<br>Soon thereafter, He was gone</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+F.+McCullagh">John F. McCullagh</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420103" data-title="Moirai de John F. McCullagh" data-description="When He came home from work that day He said “Enough’s enough”. “Let others built the widgets, I have done that long enough.” I’ll live a life of leisure, crafting poetry and song. Perhaps I’ll write short stories or play my guitar..."></div> </div> </div>

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